


zeit heist

by meguri_aite



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Con Artists, F/F, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6513655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meguri_aite/pseuds/meguri_aite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you want employment with the best agency, you gotta have a good heist on your CV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	zeit heist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Batman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman/gifts).



> who the hell throws [ridiculous british heist articles](http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/art/features/we-didnt-really-think-wed-get-away-with-it-the-astonishing-story-of-how-two-young-irish-men-10270354.html) on their prompt lists for a sports anime exchange? who??
> 
> i'm not responsible for the consequences.

14/10/2016  4:28 pm

“I don’t think this is the right time to be giving me hearteyes,” Riko says. She doesn’t look at Satsuki, who is most definitely giving her hearteyes.

“Is it because you’re driving and I will distract you?”

“No, because we’re on a schedule.”

“I know, since I made it and all,” Satsuki’s voice cheerful and unrepentant. “T minus eight minutes. Ahh, it’s gonna be so much fun!”

It’s not until the car in nestled between a 4x4 and a flashy SUV, and now effectively hidden from view, that Riko kills the engine and turns to look at her. Satsuki is an explosion of bubblegum colors and dimples that’s impossible to ignore. _And eyes that miss nothing_ , Riko thinks to herself, as Satsuki’s smile grows wider.

“Just don’t forget we’re -” _on a job_ , Riko wants to say, but that would be jumping ahead of the train, “- on a mission.” She’s not afraid to jinx it, but complacency is exactly what they don’t want.

“Oh, it will be fine,” Satsuki waves a hand. “And it’s not like we want to go completely unnoticed, is it?”

“Not by the authorities, though.”

If _they_ are as good as the rumours have it, they’ll notice. If they don’t - well, then she’ll know that their reputation was too big for them, and not worth her and Satsuki’s while at all.

The organization referred to in whispers as _the miracles_ was supposed to be the best, and they only recruited the best.

The best is what she’s gonna give them, then.

The dashboard clock changes a digit. It’s time.

Satsuki is almost out of the car when Riko relents.

“Have fun, girl!”

Satsuki’s smile is like a flashlight.

 

14/10/2016  5:23 pm

Being a gallery attendant isn't the most interesting of jobs. One could make an argument that spending days surrounded by masterpieces and drinking in their soul-soothing beauty is a privilege, but whoever says so clearly isn't thinking of modern art in all its avant-garde glory.  

Toriyama Jun, age 28 and counting, has seen enough avant-garde to last him twice that lifetime.

At least the crowds are colorful. You have your obligatory couples, concentrated on creating impressions rather than finding them. There are professional critics with their little notebooks. Socialites, always in groups. Misty-eyed young girls and badly-shaven bitter men, who come with polar opposite amounts of generosity for art in their souls. He quite likes these two kinds: there is something equally genuine about uninhibited admiration and envy-festered denigration.

And then there are the art students.

Toriyama sighs.

Today, another one of those has set up camp by one of the gaudier exhibits, equipped with a giant sketchbook propped against an even bigger folder, an oversized bag full of art supplies and assorted rubbish that looked messy even on the outside, and, of course, the art school looks. Their bunch is remarkably uniform in their hip passion to declare individuality.

And this one can’t have been that good, either. Toriyama isn’t even judging her for the choice of inspiration. For all that she’s spent almost an hour scribbling enthusiastically (and possibly tweeting about it, seeing how often she played with her phone), her sketch still doesn’t seem to bear much resemblance to the original: a still-life that seems to consist primarily of crying green pears. Toriyama knows, because he looked over her shoulder on one of his rounds.

“They aren’t even green,” he had said out loud, without meaning to. To be fair, they weren’t even much like pears, but it was the color choice that had shocked him.

“It’s a remix,” she had said with a wave of her hand. She is, of course, wearing crocheted fingerless gloves. “I’m thinking something Warholian.”

He had apologized for interrupting her, of course. But privately he thinks crying pink pears are just crying pink pears.

 

14/10/2016  5:15 pm

Riko completes her review of the camera outputs and the building blueprints, and quite truthfully informs the gallery administrator that their surveillance system is in top condition.

Which just means Satsuki needs some more time to crack into it.

Riko sends another round of mental apologies to the security technician whose identity, paperwork, and most importantly, phone she had stolen - to be returned together with some pointers on how to handle surprise assaults; poor guy couldn’t have had too much training in that. A little malware Satsuki emailed to his phone as soon as Riko got her hands on it should have eaten a hole into their internal systems, letting Satsuki disable some of the cameras. Riko has analyzed the footage and pointed Satsuki to the cameras she has to target, but even an IT whiz takes some time to do it on a neon-colored phone. Especially if she has to take breaks to fill a sketchbook with a child’s drawings.

Satsuki can’t draw for shit. Riko suppresses a smile and turns away from the screens showing the camera feeds.

“I’ll go over over alarm system next,” she tells the administrator. A chance to learn more about it is not the worst way kill time.

 

14/10/2016 5:38 pm

When he hears brisk footsteps and the day’s administrator walks into the hall, flanked by a stern young woman in an inconspicuous grey suit, for a second Toriyama entertains a wild hope that something has happened. A security breach, or even an ostentatious theft, if he’s lucky.

But he forces himself to face the reality. This is a _modern art gallery_. The most crime the place sees is people trying to reclaim someone else’s forgotten personal belongings. The woman is probably here to inspect fire alarms or something similar. The gallery doesn’t close for another twenty minutes, however; wouldn’t it make sense to run the checks after six?

It’s only when the security officer stops in front of the art student girl and tries to convince her to move out of the way that Toriyama cheers up again. The girl clutches the sketchbook to her chest - the pink pears on its pages have gotten a new dimension to their dreariness since he last checked - and stares at the officer with round-eyed protest.

“We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. This shouldn’t take long, we just have to check up on one of the cameras,” explains the grey-suited lady. “Do you think you could take your work somewhere else for the time being, please?”

“Oh, I guess I could, but I don’t want to leave the original yet,” says the girl, picking up all her folders and bags in one slippery, ill-balanced pile. “I just started getting its true vibe, the right idea from it,” she adds, as if that would ever explain the pears.

“Sure,” the officer tells her without blinking an eye. “For as long as the gallery’s open. Now, may I suggest you move to this spot, please? You will still be able to see the reference exhibit, and we’ll quickly check the equipment in the meantime. Thank you for understanding, madam.”

 

14/10/2016 5:39 pm

Satsuki stands exactly at the edge of the disabled CCTV’s blind spot, channeling distress at being forced away from the big flashy painting she’s been drawing her inspiration from.

She is also right next to a different exhibit, smaller in size but equally overpriced. She’s not paying it any attention, choosing instead to take the pages from her folders and look at them critically at an arm’s length. Presumably comparing them to the unsurpassed original, or imagining them on the gallery walls.

Riko makes an effective show of checking the cameras. The gallery staff are very obliging and express their desire to help with anything she should need to find a non-existing fault with the equipment. Riko graciously accepts their help, sending them to fetch and hold things that will definitely help her fix this in no time at all.

When Satsuki lifts the picture off the wall and replaces it with an exact copy that had been biding its time in the recesses of her folder, no one is looking at her. Not even Riko.

“May I please go back to drawing now?” Satsuki pouts. “The gallery closes soon, can’t it wait?”

 

14/10/2016 5:57 pm

Back in the security quarters, Riko shows the gallery administrators the restored feed from all the cameras.

“The connection is back,” she explains, and that is not strictly speaking a lie. Satsuki restored it as soon as Riko signalled her. “Most likely the camera just reset itself. That happens sometimes when there are minor jumps in the electric circuits.”

The surveillance feed is back on the screens. The administration is very grateful that it only took Riko seven minutes to identify and fix the problem.

Seven minutes is exactly how much footage is missing from their records.

It is more than enough.

 

14/10/2016  6:10 pm

A young man with glossy magazine good looks and a venti macchiato in front of him stops fiddling with his phone and takes a look outside. His table offers a view of one of the most fashionable art galleries in this part of town. It’s too late for the area to be crowded anymore, so it’s a nice view. The young man switches on his phone camera, intending to take a sweeping shot of the scene.

There is just an artsy-looking girl with heavy folders in her hands, sheets of paper and canvas peeking from the sides, slowly making her way back from the gallery. A young woman in a dress suit joins her, and judging by the gestures, offers help with carrying the folders. A stack of papers switches hands, and they continue walking together.

When the man flips through the pictures on his phone, one of them looks just as if the girl in the suit is pressing a kiss against her companion’s temple.

 

17/10/2016, 12:38 pm

At lunch, Toriyama hears the most absurd gossip.

The rumors have it that the museum has received an anonymous package with one of the exhibits in it, neatly covered in bubble wrap. They say there was a note in this package, too, claiming the picture currently on display is a fake.

They even say the note also offers tips on improving the security.

Toriyama doesn’t really believe those rumors. They sound too much fun to be true.

 

17/10/2016, 01:23 pm

Riko’s phone buzzes.

There is no sender ID on the message, just an address and an attached image.

When she clicks on it, it’s a picture of her and Satsuki walking out of the art gallery. Riko’s heart leaps into her throat.

“Aw, look, we’re so _cute_ on this picture,” Satsuki says, looking over her shoulder. “We should print it out and put it on the wall.”  


**Author's Note:**

> my sincere apologizes to all art students everywhere ;A; i have utmost respect for you (in fact, i'd pay to BE you, probably) and beg your forgiveness for liberal stereotype-playing - this joke ran away from me before i could stop it OTL if that counts, i think satsuki probably looked super-cool and the gallery attentant is just too bitter for this world :')
> 
> i also apologize to con artists. i've no idea how you do your jobs, heists are hardddd.
> 
> AND!
> 
> many thanks to [darkcyan ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/darkcyan) who insisted ridiculous prompts are there to be written, held my hand through heist-plotting (or hand-waving) and helped me get the sentences straight - or not, evidently ♥


End file.
